


You're Gonna Be Okay

by nevercomestheday



Category: Reservoir Dogs (1992)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Escape, Gunshot Wounds, Happy Ending, Hospitalization, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nurses, Police, Theft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-04-28 14:48:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 5,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5094686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nevercomestheday/pseuds/nevercomestheday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU in which White knew Orange was a cop from weeks before, but says nothing until he admits it after the standoff. Both survive. The happy ending they may not deserve, but desperately need.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> THIS PAIRING.  
> Anyway, I had to write a fix-it fic. It's who I am.  
> Thanks a ton to officialreservoirdogs and lydiduh on tumblr who beta-ed this for me <3  
> Enjoy! <3  
> I don't own the characters! They belong to Quentin Tarantino.

The second bullet in his gut was a surprise- not in the fact he was shot, but in the way it somehow managed to add more pain than what already seared throughout his body.

Freddy bit his lip in agony, so weak he could barely move. The pool of lukewarm blood around him was beginning to warm up as the new wound spilled into it.

Where were the cops? Shouldn't they have been there by now?

Somehow, through the torture of bleeding out and the help en route too late, through the gunshots he could still hear ringing in his head, the only thought present was Larry.

Eddie shot Larry.

_Oh god, Eddie shot Larry._

_Please still be alive, don't fuckin' die on me Larry, please..._

Freddy turned his head in the direction of a low moan.

Larry.

He dragged himself up to the ramp, groaning in pain as he pulled Freddy's head into his lap. Every movement brought with it more torment from his wounds, yet he couldn't stay away. His crawl agonizingly slow, Larry put his face against Freddy's forehead, gasping. He pulled himself up and felt his partner's hands weakly grab at his arms. He stroked Freddy's cheek.

“I'm sorry, kid, looks like we're gonna do a little time,” Larry panted.

“I'm a cop... Larry...” Freddy choked out, tears joining the blood and sweat coating his face. “I'm sorry... I'm s... so... sorry...”

A low whimper, a choking sound, and then, “I know.”

“Y... You know?” His gut ached and his vision grew fainter but he could still somehow feel the anxious surprise of Larry's words clear as day.

“Yeah... You think... think I'm stupid or something?” Larry groaned. “I've known for... 'fr weeks...”

Sirens wailed faintly. The police were on their way.

“Why... didn't...” choked Freddy. He screamed out in pain. “Why didn't you rat me out? Why'd... Why'dyoudefendme?” His words smashed together, all in a rush to beat the sharp stabs that followed any attempt at speech.

“Because I'm a fucking idiot,” Larry sobbed, a sickly half-chuckle just under his breath.

Freddy shook his head slightly.

“I am,” he whined, still sarcastically laughing. “I fell in love with a fuckin' cop. Nothing you've said... It's all been bullshit, right?”

“Larry... Larry! No!” He was cross-eyed, bleeding out onto Larry. “No!” Freddy cried again. “God no! I love... you, Larry, I f... fuckin' love you... Mean it! Always... Always d... did...”

Both short of breath, Larry leaned down to kiss Freddy's forehead.

He continued, “Planned... to run... or lie... just... to be with you...”

Another grim chuckle. “You'd lie to your own? For me?” Larry panted.

“Any... day...”

The sirens were right there now, and within ten seconds of Freddy's choked response, they were barging in.

Larry could see in the distance Mr. Pink, shot in the leg and in handcuffs, being dragged into an ambulance.

Cops and medics pulled the two apart, Freddy shakily reaching for Larry's hand.

“Don't... Don't arrest him...!” he wailed to the cop helping him to a gurney. “He's... he's with me...”

The officer frowned. “Newandyke, he's a criminal. He just committed a heist.”

“N... No! He's... helping... tried to stop... whole thing... Fuck!” Freddy screamed as the paramedics tore his shirt open and went to work. “Please... Don't let him... die!”

The cop nodded solemnly. “Don't worry, kiddo. They're taking him to the hospital, too.”

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

A bright white glow surrounded Freddy.

_Is this it? Am I finally dying?_

He opened his eyes, and no, he wasn't dying. The sterile white room around him belonged to a hospital, and the pain in his gut was beginning to dull.

It only took about ten seconds of consciousness to ask.

“Where's Larry?” he croaked, voice low and weak.

His voice echoed slightly, and maybe it was just the heavy medication, but it emphasized the emptiness of the room and filled him with a deep sadness.

 

The first nurse to see him came in an hour later, bringing with her a small cup of ice chips and a smile.

“Detective Newandyke, you're awake!” she chirped.

“Where's Larry?” he asked again.

The nurse frowned. “Larry?”

Freddy tried to sit up, but his abdomen stung. “Lawrence Dimmick,” he breathed. “The guy they pulled in with me, where... did he make it?”

She pulled a little tray table on wheels over to the bed and put the Styrofoam cup down on it. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to think.

“Hmm... You know, I'll have to check. I just got on this shift an hour ago, and so far, I haven't seen him.”

A lump rose in Freddy's throat. His mouth was thick with sleep and dehydration. “Can you please check for me? I have to know he's okay.”

The smile returned to the young woman's face. “Of course. Oh, and some other detectives are waiting outside for your statement. Should I let them in?”

“Not until... Not until I find out about Larry.”

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

The sun shone down warmly on the field, and Freddy could see rows and rows of flowers lining a path just up ahead.

Orange lilies, blue hydrangeas, red chrysanthemums, red roses, white gardenias, and a sprinkling of white heather danced up and down the left side of the path, weaving intricate patterns throughout each other. The flowers were arranged so artfully; Freddy stopped and stared, admiring the careful work some gardener must've done.

When he looked to the other side, expecting more beautiful, meticulously manicured blossoms, he found but a lone daffodil, wilting sadly in the overgrown grass. Weeds were beginning to overtake that side of the dirt path, and he could see the spaces where someone had trampled through the grass there.

He frowned, looking up the path. There grew a powerful looking cherry blossom tree, and at its feet sat Larry, smiling and waving Freddy over.

Freddy's steps were slow at first, but the moment he heard Larry call his name, he broke into a sprint.

The path stretched out in front of him, the lone daffodil following him closely in his peripheral vision. The flowers to his left began to wilt, and as he called to Larry, he saw him fade away.

Larry opened his mouth to say something more, but no sound came out. He reached out to take Freddy's hand, but just as he reached his place at the base of the tree, Larry was gone.

The sky grew dark and a cold wind whipped at Freddy. The tree lost its leaves in an instant and began to die before his eyes, and he saw a vision of himself, still bleeding from his gunshot wounds, dying at his own feet.

 

Freddy awoke in a cold sweat, shaking his head and panting.

“Larry, come back, please,” he groaned softly, slow to come out of his morphine-laced nightmare.

The cold white ceiling stared down at him forebodingly. As he caught his breath, he pulled the nurse call button to his chest and squeezed repeatedly.

 

“Yes, Detective Newandyke?” A new nurse came in, a sweet faced brunette who couldn't have been more than twenty.

“Did she come back yet? Did she find out about Larry?” Freddy could feel the tears welling in his eyes.

This nurse, when faced with the question, smiled knowingly. She walked a bit closer and took her patient's cold, trembling hand.

“Your friend made it out of surgery just fine. He's three rooms down from you.”

It was Christmas. A relieved smile broke out on his face, and though it hurt like hell, Freddy found himself chuckling.

“Oh, thank god. Thank god, thank god, he's all right. Can I see him? Can I go see him?” He moved to stand up, almost forgetting his own still-healing wounds.

The nurse giggled. “Detective Newandyke, you can't get out of bed just yet! You're still on a transfusion!” She pointed up at a hanging bag connected to Freddy's shaky right hand.

“When I'm done?” he asked softly.

She nodded. “Now, Detective-”

“Freddy,” he corrected.

“Freddy,” she continued with a blush, “the other policemen outside are waiting to speak with you. They've been here all day. May I let them in?”

He began to nod, then held up a hand. “Wait, did you say all day? What time is it? What... what day is it?”

The nurse gently patted Freddy's hand. “It's Wednesday, Detect- Freddy. I'll go tell your coworkers you're ready to see them.”

 

As she walked out, Freddy looked up at the ceiling and thought.

_Huh. Wednesday. It's Wednesday and Larry is alive. Larry is alive and it's Wednesday._

_Larry is alive and it's Wednesday._

He couldn't help but smile. The knowledge that Larry was sitting, healing, breathing in a room down the hall put him on a cloud.

Another round of relieved tears was ready to start falling when the sound of the door opening interrupted his thoughts.

Holdaway walked in cautiously, already handling Freddy with kid gloves.

“Newandyke?”

Freddy grinned.

A nervous laugh bubbled up from Holdaway's gut. “Newandyke, you son of a bitch! You scared the shit out of me, you know that?”

Freddy nodded and shook Holdaway's hand.

“Told you I could do it,” he said, softly but proudly.

Holdaway shook his head, smiling incredulously. “You feel okay?”

“I'm fuckin' shot through the gut, what do you think?” Freddy chuckled. “I'm pretty fuckin' thrilled to be alive.”

“Good to see you are,” he responded. “Now, let's get some shit straight. Everyone's dead except Pink and White, right?”

“Pink survived?”

“Yeah. Joe and Eddie are dead, Blonde is dead, Brown is dead, and Blue is dead.” Holdaway pulled a cigarette from his pocket and twirled it between his fingers.

“That I knew.”

“So, let's go. Tell me what happened.”

 

Freddy, slowly and sorely, told Holdaway all he remembered from the day of the heist- all, that is, except for the truth about Larry.

“Blonde, that guy was a fuckin' psycho. He's the one who started shooting up the store! I shot him to keep him from torching the whole warehouse, myself included.” He bit his lip at the memory, muted fear washing back over him as the scene replayed in his head.

“Damn. What about Pink?”

“I don't know. I didn't talk to him much,” Freddy admitted. “He mentioned that he shot his way out, but that's about it.”

“Who killed Joe and Eddie?” Holdaway asked.

The memory brought with it a feeling of intense gratitude and adoration for Larry, and as the standoff ran through his mind, Freddy's heart swelled with love. Larry had risked his life to save him.

“Joe told Eddie and Larry that I was with the LAPD, that I was a fuckin' rat. He put up his gun to kill me, and then Larry put his up. Eddie followed. Larry says, 'Joe, don't you dare shoot this man, he's a good man,' and all that, and Eddie's screaming not to shoot his daddy. Joe shoots me, Larry shoots him, Eddie shoots Larry, Larry shoots Eddie. Boom.”

Holdaway's eyes widened. “Shit...”

“Yeah.”

A silence fell over the room as they both absorbed the information.

“Wait a second,” Holdaway said after a moment. “You just called White Larry.”

And now it was time to lie.

_You can do it; you've been lying your ass off for weeks, and this is for Larry. You owe it to him._

“He didn't want to go through with the robbery at the last minute. Tried to stop it, then when I got shot, tried to save me. Stuck by my side the whole time. Even tried to get me a doctor early on.” _Oh fuck no, don't cry now._

“So... you're telling me this career criminal didn't want to pull this job? And tried to save your life?” Holdaway scoffed.

“Yeah. He's... he's not so bad. There's nothing to arrest him for this time.” Freddy ran a hand through his hair.

“And this isn't just the morphine and the blood loss talking here? You're completely serious?”

He nodded.

“Huh. Well, I'll have to clear it with the Chief of D's and get your statement on record, but okay.” He shook his head in disbelief, but didn't contest Freddy's statement any further.


	4. Chapter 4

Wednesday turned to Thursday, which somehow turned to Friday, and Freddy still hadn't been allowed to see Larry.

“Come on, can't I go now?” he asked the nurse changing his bandages. “Just put me in the wheelchair and push, please?”

“I'm sorry, I just can't let you do that. Doctor's orders. But I wouldn't worry too much about seeing your friend,” she said with a small smile.

“It's been three days, of course I'm worrying,” Freddy grumbled.

“Just trust me, okay?” She pulled his t shirt back down over his fresh bandages and covered him back up with the thin blanket.

“I just want to make sure he's all right,” he sighed.

“Would it make you feel any better if I told you he won't stop asking for you?” The nurse looked down at him, pity just visible below the surface of her smile.

“He has?”

“Since he woke up. He threw a little fit when the doctor couldn't tell him about your condition.”

Freddy blushed and looked down at his hands. He could just picture Larry now, shouting at the doctor and making a scene.

“Now you get some rest, okay?” she continued.

He nodded and brought a hand up to his face, dragging his fingers across his lips. The morphine was still thrumming through his veins, weighing reality down with a thick, warm fog, yet he could still feel the little wounded butterflies fluttering around his stomach.


	5. Chapter 5

Saturday morning came through, young and bright and sunny streaming through the hospital blinds. The sunshine felt good on Freddy's skin.

He was just pulling himself out of the previous night's sleep when the door to his room creaked open. At first he assumed it was one of his nurses coming around with a change of bandages.

“Be careful this time, yesterday you were too rough,” he groaned quietly, eyes lidded.

“If I had a nickel...” a low voice answered.

His eyes snapped open and a smile crossed his lips before his brain could even make the connection.

“Larry?” Freddy beamed. “Oh, thank god...”

The orderly pushing Larry's wheelchair smiled awkwardly. “I'll give you two some privacy... I'm out here if you need anything,” he whispered as he crept out of the room.

The feeling that washed over Freddy when he saw Larry's face was almost identical to the way the morphine first felt when they shot him full of it. The pressure was lifting.

“Larry...”

He wheeled a little closer and took Freddy's hand, squeezing tightly. “You... Thanks.”

“Thank me? You saved my fuckin' life, you know that?” Freddy chuckled.

“And I'd do it again. You told the cops I didn't do anything wrong?” Larry rubbed his thumb up and down the back of Freddy's hand.

“I told them the truth,” he replied with a wink.

Larry smirked. He looked around the room and sighed. “Listen... When all this blows over...”

“I'm quitting the force,” Freddy stated bluntly.

“Yeah?”

“I'm done. Yeah. Fuckin' done.” He nodded once.

“I think I'm done too,” Larry said.

Freddy giggled. “What, you're a double-triple undercover agent? Jeez, you think you know a guy.”

Larry gently nudged his shoulder. “Nah, I'm serious. I just want to move out somewhere nice and easy and live my life in fuckin' peace, for once.”

Freddy looked around, avoiding Larry's gaze for fear of what he might find there. “When you move out there,” he murmured as his eyes caught a sunbeam pouring through the window, “will you be, uh... alone?”

“Not unless you've got other plans,” Larry reassured. He put his other hand on Freddy's forearm and squeezed lightly.

Freddy finally returned his line of vision to Larry's eyes. “I meant what I said back there,” he breathed.

“Yeah, I know. So did I.”

The room grew quiet, infinite space between Larry's words and Freddy's next thought. He felt spacey and happy and dizzy and indescribably undeserving of a person like Larry.

He took so long to collect his thoughts that it was Larry who broke their silence.

“I love you.”

There came the waterworks. Like a shot out of nowhere, surprising Freddy, he burst into tears. They ran down his face in hot streams, and his lip quivered as he tried to respond.

Just as he'd done in the warehouse, Larry took his thumb and wiped the tears from his face. He had a little smile on his face, yet tears were welling in his eyes, mirroring Freddy's.

“Fuck, Larry... I love you so damn much...” Freddy sobbed.

It hurt to lean in, but Larry still tried to get closer. He caressed the side of Freddy's face.

“Shh, it's okay... Everything is okay now, see? We're both gonna pull through just fine... We just have to get through testifying against Pink and we'll be good to go, okay? We'll move out to the country and forget about everything else, put this whole mess behind us,” he vowed. “Everything is going to be totally fine.”

“I'm just... I'm still so sorry, Larry...” Freddy wept. Their entire afternoon in the car and the warehouse after Freddy had been shot, and the moments after the standoff, had been so full of emotion and intensity and pain- so, so much pain. Now the pain was mostly gone, wounds sewn up and bullets removed, but the emotion came rushing back, overflowing in Freddy's heart like a little plastic cup under a waterfall.

“It's okay, kid, it's okay.” Larry swallowed down a sob. He would not cry. He had to be strong in front of Freddy, just like he'd needed to be strong when Freddy was bleeding all over himself.

“It's not, it's not,” he cried.

“Freddy, look at me. Look at me!”

He stopped cold and looked straight into Larry's darkened eyes.

“I forgive you,” he said slowly.

Freddy's lip began to quiver again.

“I _forgive you_ and _everything_ is going to be _okay_.” His voice never wavered.

Freddy took in a deep breath. He opened his mouth to say something, but just sighed.

“We're gonna be just fine.”


	6. Chapter 6

A week passed easily, with Larry in Freddy's room every moment he was allowed, even sneaking out several times against direct orders from the nurses.

He liked to be there as Freddy fell asleep, liked to watch his chest slowly rise and fall and his eyelids grow heavy. He would sit and speak softly to Freddy as the sun dipped below the horizon. Sometimes he'd tell stories, other times paint vivid pictures of their future together, all the while holding on to Freddy's hand.

Larry also liked to be there in the mornings, partly because he knew how Freddy loved to see him when he woke and partly because he needed to be sure that Freddy had made through it another night.

No matter how many days passed or how much progress the doctors said Freddy was making, Larry still held a deep fear that he could lose his boy. Just the thought terrified him more than the threat of prison, more than the threat of violence, even more than his own mortality. His first question for the doctor was always about Freddy's recovery rather than his own.

“I know how I'm doing, tell me about Mr. Newandyke,” he'd say to the nurse as she read from his chart each morning.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

The first day of Freddy's physical therapy, a partly-cloudy Friday, Holdaway and the Chief of Detectives came in to get his statement on record. He tried his best to say exactly what he'd said the first time Holdaway had visited, but some of his memories were bogged down in the swampy heaviness morphine brought.

Just as soon as the session had started was the recorder packed up.

“Oh, Chief?” said Freddy as the men got up to leave.

“Hm?”

“I, uh... I want you to know this is it for me. I'm leaving the force.” The words came out surprisingly easily.

Holdaway nodded once, and the chief opened his mouth, closed it, and then drew in another breath.

“You know what, Newandyke?” he replied. “I don't blame you. You've been through enough hell for one lifetime.”

“I'll bring you the papers later this weekend,” Holdaway added.


	8. Chapter 8

Sunday next blew in with a downpour of rain. Freddy considered it poetic justice- Larry would be discharged that afternoon.

Sure, it was a good sign, and Freddy couldn't have been happier to see Larry healing so well. Selfish as it was, though, he'd miss having him there every night and every morning.

“I'll still come and see you,” Larry promised at lunch. As usual, he'd barely touched his sandwich, focusing instead on trying to help Freddy eat his soup.

“I hope so. I don't like the way the nurses treat me like I'm some sort of fuckin' baby,” he muttered.

“Oh, you mean like feeding you your soup and fluffing your pillows?” Larry chuckled, an eyebrow raised.

“Shut up,” Freddy blushed.

“Listen,” Larry said, putting the spoon down. “We've got to get our stories straight. What exactly did you tell the cops?”

It took him a minute. Freddy bit his lip as he thought. “Uh... I told them you decided not to pull the bank job, and that you were planning to leave Joe to get caught... And I think the rest was all true.”

“What do you mean, all true? What else did you say?”

“I told them how you pulled me into the car and took care of me in the warehouse, and how you shot Joe and Eddie because Joe shot me.” Freddy took a sip from his ice water.

Larry sighed. “Okay... What about those cops I killed?” he murmured.

“I think I told them Pink did those.”

Larry's eyes widened. “Fuck, kid. That wouldn't make sense. He didn't run the same way we did. He took a different route. Shit, they're gonna know that was me.”

“Oh god, Larry, I'm sorry, I fucked up,” Freddy whimpered. “I wasn't thinking. Stupid fuckin' morphine... Makin' me fuckin' stupid...” He reached for his IV line, frustrated enough to make a pass to pull it out.

“Hey, hey, don't you start with this shit! You need that!” Larry gently took him by the wrist. “It's all right, we'll be okay. For all we know, they do think they can pin it on Pink. Don't beat yourself up, all right kid? Give yourself credit. You came up with that bullshit about me pulling out of the job last minute while you were still bleeding out, which was unbe-fucking-lievable. I never could've done that.”

Freddy sighed. “You're just saying that.”

“You know me. I don't just say shit for the sake of filling the air. And when I make a promise, you'd better believe I deliver, got it? I promised we're gonna be okay, and damn it, we're gonna be okay.” He took Freddy's hand and kissed his knuckles. “Say it.”

“We're gonna be okay.”

“That's right. Now come on, eat your soup.”


	9. Chapter 9

Larry left just a little past four that afternoon. He made sure to kiss Freddy's forehead and remind him twice that he'd be back the next day for a visit.

 

About an hour after Larry left, a knock was heard at Freddy's door. Knowing the nurses didn't knock, and being foolishly hopeful, Freddy thought it might be Larry, back already.

“Couldn't stay away, could you?” he chuckled, but when Holdaway opened the door he gasped. “Oh, shit, Holdaway.”

“Newandyke. I brought you the resignation papers...” He closed the door behind him and took a few steps closer to the bed. “Listen, the chief would kill me if he knew I was telling you this, but fuck it all. You're under investigation. White too.”

Freddy's heart dropped as he took the papers. “What?”

“They're not totally buying your story, and to be honest, man, I don't think I am either.” He shoved his hands in his pockets.

“What the fuck do you want from me, fuckin' photos or something? I was there! I was fuckin' shot! Twice!” Freddy winced as he tried to raise his voice.

“Whoa, whoa, take it easy. Calm down,” Holdaway said. “It's just that the nature of your... relationship... with White is a little suspicious.”

All he wanted to do was scream, but he couldn't. Freddy thought about Larry, about how cool he could be under pressure, how cool he would want Freddy to be right then.

He took in a long breath. “What's so suspicious about it?” he asked coolly.

“Well, Newandyke, don't you think you're a little close? He's a fuckin' criminal.”

 _Hold it together._ “Look, unless you have enough evidence to charge him with something-”

“Actually, we do. We've had Pink in custody for a week now since he left the hospital, and he hasn't shut up about the cops you and White killed.” His tone was short and his eyes narrowed.

 _Fuck._ “Of course he's gonna fuckin' blame us for that! He'll blame us for anything he can to get a fuckin' deal!” Freddy growled.

Holdaway furrowed his brow. “Us?”

“Yeah, me and Larry.” Whoops.

“Look, I was just coming here to do you a favor, but you're just proving their point. I don't know why the fuck I'm still telling you this, but they're planning to make an arrest Tuesday morning. The warrant just has to be signed by the judge tomorrow.” Holdaway turned to leave.

“Wait,” Freddy piped. Holdaway looked back over his shoulder. “Who are they planning to arrest?”

“Both of you.”


	10. Chapter 10

Waiting for visiting hours to roll around was agonizing. Larry wouldn't be allowed back until eight the next morning, and even with the pain medication, Freddy could hardly sleep.

 

He was still wide awake when Larry walked in at 8:05.

“Hey, kid, what's the matter?” he asked upon seeing Freddy's frown. He walked over to give him a hug.

“They fuckin' know, Larry. They're gonna arrest us. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry...” Freddy buried his face in Larry's chest.

“Whoa, whoa, what? How do you know this?”

Freddy pulled back to look up at Larry, tears of frustration and panic in his eyes. “Holdaway came by with my resignation papers and tipped me off. What are we gonna do? Oh, god, Larry, what are we gonna do?” He leaned his face back into Larry's t shirt, wrapping his arms around him.

“Shh, relax, it's okay,” Larry whispered. “I'll take care of it, all right?” He ran his fingers through Freddy's hair comfortingly.

“What are you gonna do?”

“Don't worry about it, all right? I'll handle it.” He kissed the top of Freddy's head. “Did you sleep at all?”

Freddy shook his head, still leaning against Larry.

“Okay, well that's no good. You'll never get better if you don't rest. You want me to pull down the blackout curtains and let you take a nap?”

“Yeah, okay,” Freddy sniffed. “Okay.”

Larry got up, pulled the curtains down, and turned off the remaining fluorescent light above the bed. He pulled up his usual chair next to Freddy, tucked him in, took his hand, and sat down with some difficulty.

“Larry?”

“Yeah?”

“Don't leave me.”

He smiled warmly. “I'll stay until they drag me out.”

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

 

Freddy slept through that entire day, and Larry made good on his promise not to leave. He sat there through shift changes, even watching the nurses take his vitals.

“Be careful,” he said to one as she went to check his IV line. “Make sure it doesn't poke him.”

 

Visiting hours ended at 8pm, and at 8:15, Larry was finally finished saying goodbye to a still-sleepy Freddy.

“Just try to sleep some more, okay? I'll be back for you before you know it.”

 

Somewhere around one that morning, Freddy felt someone gently nudge him awake.

“Larry?” he groaned. “What's going on?”

“We're running away, kid.”

Before Freddy could fully realize what was happening, Larry was tenderly removing his IV and wrapping his hand.

“But what about... I thought I needed to stay longer?” The pinch in his hand helped to wake him a little more, but Freddy was still very confused.

“I overheard the doctor telling the nurse this morning that they were planning to let you go by this Thursday anyway. I told you I'd take care of this bullshit with the arrest warrant, right?” He grabbed a few rolls of gauze and some bandaging tape from the side table and stuffed them in his pockets.

“Where are we going?” Freddy asked as he reached his arms up to Larry.

“Home.”

Freddy wanted to ask where that was, but Larry had already scooped him up out of bed and shushed him. He snuck out of the room carefully, slipping down the hall to the back stairs.

Carrying Freddy was no easy task for Larry; his abdomen felt like it was splitting in half just picking him up out of bed. He had no choice though, and put on a brave face.

They left through the service entrance in the back of the hospital, and much to Freddy's surprise, a little grey Cadillac DeVille sat parked outside.

“Stolen?” he whispered.

Larry was too out of breath to answer, so he just smirked.


	12. Chapter 12

The first leg of the drive was probably the most nerve-wracking. Larry looked cool and calm, mostly to keep Freddy from panicking, but it didn't help much. Freddy couldn't stop looking over his shoulder and out the back window, always sure he could hear sirens or see flashing lights in his peripheral vision.

 

The sun crept up over the trees around the dirt road they drove, and Freddy was finally dozing off. His left hand held tightly onto Larry's, resting somewhat uncomfortably on the console.

 

Finally, they reached a small town, and three miles past its edge was an abandoned house.

It wasn't hideous. It needed some paint, definitely, and it looked like it hadn't been lived in in quite some time, but it was safe, and out of the way, and Freddy decided not to ask Larry how he knew about it or to whom it used to belong.

“Hey, sleeping beauty,” Larry teased quietly as he parked in the gravel driveway. “We're here.”

“We are?” Freddy asked groggily, blinking in the afternoon sun.

“Yep. Home sweet home.” Larry got out of the car, stretched, and went around to open the door for Freddy. When he stepped out and found his balance missing, Larry scooped him up once again, ignoring the sharp pain in his gut. “Let's go home.”

 

He carried Freddy over the threshold, which made him giggle, and when he set him down gently on the worn beige sofa, Larry stopped for a second to look at him.

“What?”

“Nothin'.” Larry sat down next to Freddy and pulled him into his lap, planting a soft kiss on his lips.

“You know how long I've been waiting for you to do that?” Freddy chuckled.

“What? I've done that before,” Larry said.

“Not the whole time we were in the hospital.”

Larry blushed. “Yeah, well, I didn't want those nurses treating you different.”

Freddy shrugged and kissed Larry again, this time slower and deeper. When he pulled back, he looked into Larry's eyes drunkenly.

“I love you, Larry,” he said dreamily.

“I love you too, Freddy,” Larry sighed.

 

The two settled in on the couch for a nap- Larry was drained from driving all night and Freddy was still in that part of the healing process that allowed for whole days to pass by in slumber.

Freddy snuggled up on top of Larry, resting his head on the other man's chest. Larry stroked his hair gently, watching sleepily as Freddy dozed off first.

 

Even years later, when both were fully healed and the days were full, Larry always insisted on watching for Freddy to fall asleep first, and waking up before him, just to be sure.


End file.
